Warm grasses tickling your skin,
You lay back on that hillside
wondering thoughts within,
And closed your eyes.
Cool breeze across your cheek,
Dandelion spawn alight and aloft,
A simple wandering wind,
Your thoughts drifting as idly away.
Some say all the knights are gone,
Burnished armor smote into ruin,
Fair hearts of chivalrous intent,
What a dry death upon such treacherous rocks,
What lies.
Still,
You dream of a man,
Born not of men,
You call to him softly,
Calling and then…
Waking,
Eyes open to greet the day,
Heart filled with sadness
and the regrets of dismay.
The warm grass tickling your skin,
Gentle tear across your cheek,
Lying on a summer hillside,
Picking desperately at the stitching of reality’s seams,
Tear chasing hope where closed eyes lied,
Finding good men only in your dreams.
Author notes
An interesting concept. Chivalry is not dead. But if no one is there to lift the banner, they will indeed think it has fallen.
A contest entry
- "Where Have All The Good Men Gone?" by Ethereal One.
950 points, ended January 15, 2008, 11 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Respect is asked for, given and understood... :)
Comments
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I enjoyed the "dandelion spawn...thoughts drifting as idly away" and "burnished armor smote into ruin". My favorite line, "Picking desperately at the stitching of reality's seams", lovely! Congrats on the HM!
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Liked the ending to this poem - relates back to the title, bringing everything in between together. Easy to read and understand, someone we all wish for -
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